Kentucky Sunrise

by Fern Michaels

  “No, I guess not. We missed you at dinner last night. You’re coming to the tailgate dinner, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll do my best. I brought Gabby with me, so I have to see to her.”

  Nealy was dismissed, and she knew it. She turned to see Hatch loping toward her. She felt a sense of relief at the sight of him.

  “Nealy,” Hatch hissed in her ear. “Guess who I just saw. I know I’m not seeing things. I recognized a picture of him that Nick showed me a long time ago.”

  “Who, honey?”

  “Buddy Owens. He’s here. There!” Hatch said, pointing to a champagne-colored Lexus at the far end of the parking lot.

  “Buddy Owens is here! Are you sure, Hatch?”

  “I think I’m sure. If it isn’t Buddy Owens, then Buddy Owens has a double. The car has an Ohio license plate. Doesn’t Buddy live in Ohio?”

  “Yes. Yes, he went back to Ohio. I can’t believe he’s here. I have to tell Emmie. Wait here, Hatch.”

  Nealy ran back to the barn. “Emmie, Buddy’s here. Hatch saw him in the parking lot.” At her daughter’s vague, blank look, Nealy took a step backward. “You knew he was here, didn’t you? That’s why you’re jittery. How did he find you?”

  “I sent him a letter, Mom. He came to see Gabby and to see me run the Derby. He’s going to sign off on Gabby. Give me sole custody. He’s being decent about it. I can handle it.”

  “Emmie, are you sure? Are you really sure? What if he changes his mind or switches up after he sees Gabby?”

  “Then I’ll deal with it. My life these days is all about dealing with things and situations. If I flub something up, I’ll get back up and try again. This has nothing to do with you, Mom. Well, maybe indirectly, but not now. I’d rather see him alone if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course. I thought . . . I didn’t know . . . all right, Emmie, I’m leaving. I hope it all works out the way you want it to.” She walked toward Hatch feeling like she’d just been body slammed.

  Emmie leaned against the stall and took great gulping breaths. She was ready for this, she really was. She wondered if her ex-husband was as nervous as she was. Probably not. Buddy was always laid-back and cool. Most times, too laid-back and too cool. Maybe it had something to do with the world of silence he lived in. How long before he made his way to the barn? Ten minutes? Fifteen?

  And then he was there, less than three feet away from her. She longed for her father. Maybe she shouldn’t have sent him away. She spoke then at the same time her fingers worked furiously. “Hi, how are you, Buddy?”

  “Not bad all things considered. It wasn’t a long drive. I can’t believe you’re going to ride in the Kentucky Derby.”

  “I’m a little surprised myself.” He looks almost the same she thought. Maybe his hair is thinning a little on top, and he’s gained a few pounds around the middle. She wondered how she looked to him.

  “So where is this miracle horse you’re riding?”

  Emmie pointed to the stall where Hifly stood watching what was going on.

  “You’re joking, right?” Buddy shook with silent laughter.

  “Would I be here if I were joking? Why are you always so negative, Buddy? You never, ever, saw the bright side of things. Even when we were kids you were like that. If you want to see Gabby, she’s back at the motel with the sitter. I can leave here and drive you there if you like. Are you staying for the race?”

  Buddy’s fingers worked furiously, while a smirk settled on his face. “I wouldn’t miss that race for anything. I can wait to see Gabby. How about later this evening at the hotel where we’re staying. Say nine-thirty or so. Did you bring all the paperwork you want me to sign?”

  Emmie jammed her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “I have all the papers in the truck. Tell me where you’re staying, and I’ll be there. Gabby will be sleeping by then, so I can’t bring her with me. Your visit with her will have to wait till tomorrow.”

  She knew Buddy hated it when she spoke instead of signing. He didn’t like reading lips because that meant the person speaking could actually talk and he couldn’t.

  “How is everything else?” Buddy signed.

  Emmie deliberately turned away and spoke. “Great. I’m getting married to this really, handsome, rich guy who loves me and Gabby. Stick that in your ear, Buddy Owens, and I’m lying to you because you were stupid enough to make fun of my horse. So there, you big jerk.”

  Emmie felt his hand on her arm. He forced her to face him. She grimaced an apology, and said, “Damn, I keep forgetting you can’t hear. I said everything is fine, I’m getting married to this really handsome, rich guy who just dotes on Gabby. I hope you’re as happy as I am.” She smiled brightly, hoping it would take away the lie she’d just told.

  Buddy didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he looked at Hifly again before he doubled over laughing. “Nine-thirty in the lobby of the Starlite Motel.” He waved airily as he strode off.

  Cordell Lancer had seen the little byplay, but he couldn’t hear what Emmie had said. He ran to Emmie as fast as his crooked legs could carry him. “What’s wrong, kid? Who was that guy, and what’d he say to you?”

  Emmie slid to the ground and brought her knees up to her chest. “That guy was my ex-husband. He’s deaf. He dumped me after I learned to talk. He’s here to sign off on my daughter, giving me sole custody of her. On top of that, he made fun of my horse. He snickered when he said he couldn’t believe I would be riding him in the race. He’s a jerk, what can I say.”

  “Do you want me to go pop him in the nose for you?” Cordell grinned.

  “He needs a good popping, but I don’t want to do anything that might change his mind where Gabby is concerned.”

  Cordell shrugged. “Just wanted you to know I seen that moving picture guy up at the clubhouse. He recognized me. Asked if you and your ma were here. Told him yes, and that you were running the race tomorrow. You coulda knocked him over with your pinkie finger when I said that. Said he’s coming down here to see you. He’s doing a doc-u-mentry on the Derby.”

  “Oh, my God,” Emmie said, jumping to her feet. “How long ago was it that you saw him? I look awful.”

  Cordell reared back. “You’re a horse person, you ain’t supposed to look good. You’re supposed to look good tomorrow. Ain’t tomorrow yet. Want me to head him off till you pretty up some?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

  “Why don’t I just head him off and tell him you’re too busy and to come by tomorrow when you got yourself all fixed up?”

  Emmie’s head bobbed up and down. “Yeah, yeah, Cordell, that sounds good. Do that. Don’t let him anywhere near this barn, and keep a sharp lookout that he doesn’t sneak past you. I need to work up to seeing him. I had this . . . this crush on him when he was doing all that filming.”

  Cordell scratched his head. “Figured it was something like that. Don’t go stewing and fretting, little lady. I’ll take care of the moviemaker. You sure you don’t want me popping that ex-husband of yours?”

  “I’m sure. Thanks, Cordell.”

  “I’m glad you’re with me, Dad. Our first meeting didn’t go that well. Then again, maybe it’s my imagination. He’s still as cocky as ever. All I want is his name on these papers. What if he changes his mind?”

  “Then we fall back and regroup,” Dillon said.

  “He’s going to be watching the race, Dad. For some reason that unnerves me. It shouldn’t, but it does.”

  “Honey, that man isn’t worth your little finger. Any man that turns his back on his child isn’t worth anything. I know all about that because I lived it. We’re here, the Starlite Motel. The guy doesn’t exactly go first class now, does he?”

  “No, he doesn’t. He’s secure though. His parents left him a small fortune, and he does work. He was always on the frugal side. Look, Dad, there’s Mitch Cunningham. I told you about him. He’s the one who made the family movie. Cordell said he was here to make a documentary of the Derby.”

  “Emm
ie! Imagine seeing you here!” Mitch picked her up and twirled her around. On the half-swing, she saw Buddy and a slim young woman staring at her. She forced a laugh she was far from feeling. She turned her back to her ex-husband when Mitch settled her on her feet.

  “It’s good to see you. It’s what . . . well over a year, more like two. How are you?”

  “Good. The big question is, how are you? I tried calling that place where you went when you got sick, but they would never put my calls through. I called your mother and she said they had rules, and she gave me a list of your telephone times but every time I thought about calling, it was the wrong time. I’m sorry, Emmie. You’re looking real good. You must be feeling good if you’re racing in the Derby tomorrow.”

  Emmie nodded. He’d tried to call her. She smiled. “Have you had dinner yet? Oh, Lord, where are my manners? Dad, this is Mitch Cunningham. Mitch, this is my dad, Dillon Roland.”

  “I was just going to hunt down someplace to eat. Will you join me?”

  “We’d love to if you’ll just give me a minute,” she said, squeezing his hand for Buddy’s benefit. “Just wait for us by the door.”

  “What do you think, Dad? Do you like him?” Dillon smiled. “He seems nice. I assume he’s the man you talked to me about when you were in rehab.”

  “He’s the one. He tried to call. I wish I had known that back then. Oh, well, that was then, this is now. All I want to do now is get this over with.”

  Buddy stood up, a strange look on his face.

  “Dad, this is Buddy Owens. Buddy, this is my father, Dillon Roland.”

  They shook hands briskly. Buddy motioned for his companion to get to her feet.

  “This is Debra London, my fiancée.” They all shook hands again. Buddy voiced a question with his fingers. “Who was that man?”

  Emmie looked into Buddy’s eyes. “The man I’m going to marry. I told you that down in the barn. Didn’t you believe me? My father is going to give me away and Gabby is going to be our flower girl,” she lied with a straight face. “Mitch made the movie, Buddy, the one you didn’t like. All right, here are the papers. Just sign by the X.”

  Buddy sat down, a scowl on his face as he scanned the papers he was about to sign. He finally shrugged and scrawled his signature.

  “Dad, you witnessed his signature, so you have to sign on the first line. Buddy, your fiancée can sign on the second line. Otherwise, we have to get a total stranger to be a witness and you’ll have to sign all over again. She won’t mind, will she?”

  Debra London smiled and reached for the pen. She wrote her name neatly.

  Emmie felt like dancing a jig. “It was nice to see you again, Buddy. I hope you have a wonderful life. I mean that sincerely. It was nice meeting you, Debra.” She clutched at her father’s hand and literally dragged him to the door, where Mitch Cunningham waited.

  “My God, he signed the papers. He actually signed the papers,” Emmie said when they were outside and walking across the parking lot. “I feel like ten years and a hundred pounds just came off me. He signed them, Dad. He really signed them.”

  Dillon nodded as he cupped her elbow in his hand. “He did. He can’t take it back now. Gabby is all yours.”

  Emmie turned when she heard her name called. She strained to see in the darkness. She thought she recognized the voice. “Doctor Hunter! What in the world are you doing here?”

  “I had to come after you gave me that crash course in Thoroughbred racing. I wanted to see my star patient do what I never thought she would ever be able to do. Mr. Roland, it’s nice to see you again. Or should I call you Dwight Holcum?” He burst out laughing at the sound of the name.

  Emmie grinned as she reached for the doctor’s hand. “Doctor Hunter, this is Mitch Cunningham. Mitch, Doctor Hunter is the man who got me to this place in time.”

  More manly handshakes.

  “We were on our way to a rib house, would you like to join us?”

  “Sure. I checked in a while ago. I was just meandering around. God, it’s good to see you both. Is everything okay, Emmie?”

  “We’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”

  17

  Derby Day!

  “It’s going to be a beautiful day!” Hatch said, pointing to the sun creeping over the horizon. “The last time we were here it rained buckets. When you crossed that finish line, you and Shufly were covered in mud from head to toe. As I recall, you took three showers. That was a day I don’t think I will ever forget.”

  Nealy sighed. It all seemed so long ago. She sipped at the coffee in the Styrofoam cup Hatch had brought her earlier. It was cold now, but she was used to swilling cold coffee. Sometimes she thought coffee and not blood ran in her veins.

  Her eyes on the horizon and the new sun creeping higher and higher brought back so many memories. The first time she’d been there, Hunt had been at her side. He’d been such a rock that trip. He’d been with her the second time, too, but only in spirit. Today, she wasn’t riding. Today she was alone. Even though her entire family was there, along with her husband, she felt terribly alone. Maybe it was because she wasn’t racing. Maybe it was because she couldn’t bring the past back into the present. Maybe she wasn’t ready to let go of the past, but one couldn’t live on memories. It was a new day, a new time. She had to let it go, she had no other choice.

  “What do you think we’d have to do to get some hot coffee?”

  “Not much. A kiss on the cheek will do it. They set up a stand over there,” Hatch said, pointing to his left. “And it’s free. It doesn’t get any better than free.”

  “If you don’t mind, honey, fetch some for everyone. I can’t believe what a beautiful day it’s going to be. Even the weatherman said it’s going to be in the mid-seventies, and no humidity. Perfect, just perfect.”

  “Don’t get in any trouble while I’m gone,” Hatch called over his shoulder.

  Nealy’s gaze raked the milling people, some moving almost at the speed of light, others dawdling. She stopped in midstride when a strange, alien feeling overcame her. She shook her head and rolled her shoulders back and forth to ease any tenseness, but the feeling stayed with her. The feeling was similar to the time when a pack of youngsters tried to attack her and Flyby came to her rescue. A warning of some sort. What? Why? Finding no answers to her questions, she walked down the breezeway to Gadfly’s stall.

  Nealy reached out to stroke the horse’s head. She talked softly as she handed him a mint. He tossed his head in approval. “This is your day. I hope you can run like your daddy. I don’t know if you can beat that little pygmy next to you because he’s real good. Real good, Gadfly. I almost wish I was riding you. I think you and I could eat up that track. You like Lee, and that’s a good thing. Just do what he wants and head for that finish line.” She handed over another mint and moved on to Hifly’s stall. The little horse poked his head out of the stall and nuzzled her neck. Flyby used to do the same thing. Her eyes filled with tears. She brought his head down close to her own. “I know you can do it. I know as sure as I’m standing here that you can win this race. I’m not sure you can beat your buddy or vice versa, but I know you’re going to give it your all just the way Gadfly is going to give his all. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, sweet boy.”

  “Are you telling my horse secrets, Mom?” Emmie said, coming up behind her.

  Nealy turned around to stare at her daughter. “No. I was just wishing him luck.” She frowned at the dark circles under her daughter’s eyes. Her movements were less than fluid when she stretched out shaking hands to caress the horse’s head. Even her speech sounded jerky to Nealy.

  “Did you have a bad night, Emmie? For some reason our internal body machinery knows how important Derby Day is and it goes on the fritz. It happens to all of us. Go off by yourself to some quiet place and try to relax even if it’s just for ten minutes or so. The pressure will start to build soon, so you need to be grounded.”

  “I know all that, Mom. You don’t need to pep talk me.
I’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t look fine, Emmie,” Nealy said bluntly.

  “Your voice is jerky-sounding, and your hands are shaking. Hifly is already picking up on it. That alone is enough to throw him off his stride. If you don’t believe me, watch how he acts.”

  “You don’t know everything, Mom. Why do you always try to beat me down? I’m okay.”

  “The way you were okay before you got sick? Emmie, you ignore what is right in front of your face. If you want to be a martyr, be my guest, but think about this horse. He deserves your best. I’m not seeing your best right now. It’s dangerous on the track. If you aren’t one hundred percent, you could get killed or even kill someone else. You need to listen to me, Emmie.”

  “I’m sick and tired of listening to you, Mom. Go pep talk Lee, who I’ve yet to see by the way, and you sure as hell don’t seem too concerned about him. I know what I have to do, and I’ll do it. A lot of people have faith in me, Mom. Doctor Hunter came to see me race. Buddy is here, and so is Mitch Cunningham, not to mention Dad.”

  Nealy gritted her teeth. “Is that what this is all about? Performing for other people so they can see how wonderful you are? I can’t believe I’m hearing right. Furthermore, Emmie, Lee is a professional. He’s raced before. You haven’t. He was here a minute ago because I saw him. I’m talking to you as a professional, not your mother. Emmie, you need to look deep inside yourself. Ask yourself if you’re riding this race for the right or wrong reasons. That’s the mother in me asking that question. If you’re doing it for the wrong reasons, then you don’t belong here.”

  “And you do!” Emmie said, stalking off.

  Nealy kicked a stall door in frustration.

  “Ooohhh, I felt that,” Dillon Roland said, coming up behind her. “I’m looking for Emmie.”

  “She went that way,” Nealy said, pointing down the breezeway. “Dillon, I’m worried about her. Her hands are shaking, and she has dark circles under her eyes. She can get killed out there. If you can, calm her down, okay?”